Annette Sisson

 

Tennessee Intersections, Autumn

 

 

Squat black tobacco barn,
slats lined in light. White

block lettersBest Restroom

on I65, Only Two Miles.


Sunlight amplifies bluff

an aria of tones, gold to red,

like descants trilling above

bass lines of graygreen pine.


At the junct
ion, soaring shelves

of bare stone, a metal sign,

black capitals on a field

of red: Abortion Is Murder.

Gas pumps leer

from the highway’s other side.


A terrier
’s black leather nose

bumps pontoon breeze. Kingfishers

fire streams of chuffs, rattle

brittle leaves. A heron drifts

above shallows, schools of fish

slapping silver circles.


A girl’s
teeshirt traced

with gray snails announces

There’s No Rush. A garden

in redgreenyellowpurple ink

curls up her left forearm.

 

Beside dry creek, a ten-foot
sycamore trunk, almost bare,

slight swerve at the waist,

two smooth arms reckoning

with sky. A modernist sculpture—

Woman pleads for rainfall.

 

Annette Sisson’s poems appear in Penn Review, Birmingham Poetry Review, Rust & Moth, and other journals and anthologies. Her second book, Winter Sharp with Apples, was published by Terrapin Books in 2024. Her first book, Small Fish in High Branches, was published by Glass Lyre Press in 2022. In 2024 she was a finalist for the Charles Simic Poetry Prize, and two poems were nominated for The Pushcart; in 2025 her poems have been named finalists in River Heron Review’s and Passager Magazine’s poetry prizes.